Zion

“No, I don’t think you understand what I’m getting at,” I hiss, watching the man lean back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I’m not someone who can be pushed around like this, I’ve worked hard here, harder than anyone else here!” I yell, watching as my boss sighs, shaking his head.

“Listen, Sybil, we have to make these cuts, besides, this business is going under in a matter of weeks.”

I nod, feeling the tears well up. “I know this is your only source of income, but Sybil, your resume is more than perfect and you’re a hard worker, I’ll make sure to give you a great recommendation letter.”

Sighing, I grab my purse and last paycheck, leaving his office as my eyes well up quickly. Damnit! Just when I thought fate was being nicer, allowing me to find a job that paid the rent and bills. Just when I was getting accustomed to the big city of New York City, just as I was settling down-BAM- I got let go of because of some stupid money mistake for the business that the owner had made. Checking my watch, I begin my usual walk back to my small apartment located in the basement of a married couple’s house.

Ever since I was declared rogue, it hasn’t been a walk in the park. Goddess, heat was a miserable experience, not just the pain of rejection, but the pain of being in heat and no one to aid you. I was all alone. My parents come up twice a week, driving two hours to see me, making sure I’m safe and taken care of. Next semester they have me set up to do duel credit at a community college, allowing me to have the rest of the semester off from my rejection. As for that bastard, I want to watch him burn. How could the goddess pair us together?

I take a left turn, deciding to instead spend another hour at the park, just to probably do people watching or read a book online. Pulling the jacket tighter around my body, I find a bench after a short stroll, taking a seat next to the bridge were people pass bye. There’s the usual workout group of women here, the typical gym gurus, no sweat showing, there’s a number of moms with their children, men on break from work as they have from food, and your usual tourists.

Leaning back on the bench, I pull out my phone, and right away I see a missed call. Mom.

I push the thought away, trying to calm my nerves down.

For a good thirty minutes I’m reading some science fiction novel, and then, as a strong breeze makes it way past me, I catch the most heavenly scent I’ve ever smelt. No, not like a mate’s, for if he was here, I’d be willing to chop off his dick. It’s a scent that reels you in, one that entices you in a mysterious smell. I can’t place my finger on the exact scent, as it’s mixed with so many beautiful smells, but the scent forces my eyes open right away. I look around for the man or woman who carries the scent, only to remain unsuccessful as the people around me all smell completely different. Goddess, that’s got to be my favorite scent in the whole world.

Getting to my feet, I try and pick up a trail of the scent, holding my head high as I take in deep breathes, only to find no trace.

My wolf grows impatient and I find myself groaning, placing my phone back in my purse and walk back to the street I need to head back home on. As I try and squeeze through a few tourist groups, someone grapes my purse from me, dashing off with it.

“Hey!”

People turn their attention to me as the male runs off with my purse, me pushing through as I see the man in the gray hoodie and black hat running away.

As I get free from the group, I call after the man. My legs begin to burn as I want to shift into my wolf. Lucky for him he has a head start.

“Hey, jackass, get back here you mother fucker!”

Some are shocked by my language as I run after the man, seeing him jump over a small creek, only, as he does, he meets the fist of a man, sending him back into the creek as the man takes hold of my purse. I don’t even look to the man who stopped the thief as I rush over the rest of the fifteen yards, landing a swift and painful kick right to the man’s balls. “You fucking jackass,” I yell, landing one more blow.

“Christ, lady,” the man groans in pain as I step on his leg, walking over to whoever got my purse. However, just as I look up, just as my eyes meet his, I know I’ll never be the same.

Golden brown, a color I’ll never forget, the bright flakes in the orbs just making me fall head over heels even more. The man is breathtaking as I just stare into his eyes, him doing the same, and as I take a deep breath of his scent, I recognize it instantly. The scent that had me obsessed earlier, that had me searching. And that’s when I realize it, not just the scent or the eyes, but the other bit of his presence, the authority, power, the ranking. He’s wolf, but not just wolf, but someone who could have me beheaded without anyone questioning him.

Right away I bow my head, thinking of if he’ll have me hanged for not bowing before, if he’ll hang me for being rogue. But then, only packs care about rogues, only if on their lands. Hell, the royal family rather likes rogues, those who are strong.

The royal family.

Oh no.

“Don’t do that here.”

Goddess, his voice, the voice of a god, not like Zeus or Poseidon, but like Hades, like Ares, if what I’m saying is even making sense. Not only filled with power, deep and husky, but also dark and mysterious, holding a sense of authority that you don’t want to mess with, one who could kill you in one punch. Snapping my head back up, I’m surprised to see his eyes still the same familiar golden that I’ve fallen for instantly.

“I’m sorry, my Kin-

“Zion.”

“Zion?” That’s his name, that I know and have known since he took the throne, but never, not in millions of years, would I think that the Alpha King would have me call him by his first name and nothing else. “I’m sorry, Sir, but I must be going. Thank you for your good deed,” I thank, watching as his jaw clenches. Oh man, the jaw line, the sharp features.

His chocolate brown locks look thick and silky, easily combed back yet messy from the wind, his shoulders broad, height taller than I would have even thought of based upon pictures, and his body....don’t get me started on the toned and beautiful body of a man who works very well on it. My wolf thinks about just taking a peek, lifting up that dress shirt as items tucked and seeing the row of abs he has.

“Name?”

“Sybil Opitz, Sir.”

“Sir?” He’s getting irritated, his eyes beginning to darken as my skin pales.

“...Zion.”

He looks relieved to hear that, his name, his eyes going back to that beautiful shade as his eyes take in my body, from my brown hair in a massive mess from my hard work day, to my brown eyes, to my body that’s hidden behind a pair of jeans and a thick jacket. No doubt you can tell between us two who had money and who is struggling just enough for a meal.

Suddenly, out of no where, my arm is taken, not harshly, but enough that he’s got my attention, pulling me away from the man and closer to him. “Alp-Zion, where am I going? I have to get back-

He pulls me with him towards a car parked by the park, a Maserati parked with some people staring. “I have to go home.”

“You look old enough to have a mate, to have found one, am I correct?”

I freeze, my body tensing as he awaits my answer. “Yes, I have found mine.”

His eyes darken. “Yet you do not bear his mark.” My throat becomes dry as I give him a hesitant nod. “Why is that?”

The car unlocks and he walks around to the passenger side, opening the door for me.

“Where am I going?”

“Answer the damn question,” he snaps, his voice deep as he awaits me, his eyes becoming black as his body becomes stuff.

“I was rejected. Where am I going?” He grabs my arm, practically thrusting me into the car and shuts the door. The leather against my skin makes me take in just where I am, the car I’m in, and the fear of that I have no clue what is going on.

“You, Sybil,” he begins as he hops in, turning on the car, right away speeding out as he drives like a mad man around the fairly traffic. “Are coming back with me... to the palace.”

“Why?” I ask, watching as his eyes meet mine, one of his hands brushing a strand of hair away from my face, the left side of my neck exposed. His fingers trace where the crook of my neck is, tracing patterns upon the flesh as my wolf hums.

“Because,” he begins once more, looking deep into my eyes as his fingers stop upon my skin. “You’re mine.”